For a lack of ritalin I think I’m doing good.
Sometimes hyperfocus can be advantageous if you learn how to make it work for you. (I have a refill ready for pick up so no worries) This is what I managed to get done so far.
- Take a bath (was too depressed to stand up and shower, and ever since I slipped and hit my head I’ve been paranoid)
- Dressed like a human
- Charged my electronics
- Made and drank coffee
- Took the medication I had.
- Ate some food (eating cereal right now)
- Went to the laundry matt to use their change machine
- Put one load of laundry in the wash.
I think I realized something about why I’m avoiding school
I have this extreme repulsion to the person I was before treatment. A big reason why I cut my parents out of my life is because they insist on talking about me returning to school and nothing else. It makes me feel like they view me as a status symbol vs an actual human being.
I know that’s not the case. I know in their own strange way they love and care about me, and occasionally I do get snippets of conversation of my mother scolding me for not eating properly, and my dad asking if I am still keeping my boyfriend inline. I do love them still. It’s just painful to talk to them since they need me back in school to feel safe, and I do not feel safe in school.
At least, the process of re enrolling brings up a lot of triggers. When I lived at home, I was responsible for all the paperwork in the house. Since I was a kid I would translate documents, navigate legal jargon get yelled at by administrators on the phone because no one takes a 5 year old seriously, and becuase of that I freeze up whenever I pick up the phone to talk to someone.
I need to spend hours writing down and rehearsing my questions and anticipating everything they tell me so I can follow up with more questions, since I know I will blank out and freeze. I know I’m not that little girl who has her mother wringing her hands and crying because she’s not sure if she can pay the bills on time.
People tell me I am very eloquent on the phone. They say once I’m calm I can whisk through things with great efficiency. I’ve had many teachers, family friends, and mentors say if they could inject a miracle cure to get rid of my anxiety, and ptsd, they would.
But calling a stranger on the phone is the biggest hurdle for me. I can only communicate via email and the administrative office is so inefficient with that sort of thing, the fastest way is to just go to the office itself and talk to someone.
But I can’t walk within 30 feet of my old campus without getting triggered again. I miss school, I really want to graduate. I know I’ve gotten a lot better. But dropping out represents my biggest failure. My biggest fall from being the model daughter to being the reject daughter. It brings up a lot of emotional pain because my biggest motivator to do well in school was to take care of them. Now, I don’t know what will push me. I like learning, I miss it, but going to school for me is a strange new concept.
If you care about poor people who have undiagnosed mental conditions, fight to provide ways for them to get medical treatment. Don’t encourage them to self-diagnose and self-medicate. Those are dangerous, dangerous habits.
Why are people still giving…
Re blogging for the OP not whatever the hell wyrdwulf is saying. Seriously, self diagnosis can be super dangerous. Before I went to a doctor the only people I could feel comfortable with sharing my mental illness was other un diagnosed people with mental illness. Misery loves company, and you get stuck in this cycle of hurting each other yet needing each others company and support.
It’s difficult to hang out with “Normal people” because their problems seem trivial, so you are susceptible to falling in to dangerous habits and behaviors. Even if you do manage to successfully realize what’s going on and try to get better, the environment you’re in will fight to keep you sick.
You really really need an unbiased party looking from the outside with no ulterior motives, or preconceived notions about you, to get an effective treatment.
I was blessed to have family friends who work in the medical field, willing to pay for my treatment. If it wasn’t for them I would have been dead years ago.
I know so many people with mental illness who are brilliant awesome super smart people, that can’t afford treatment or even have the resources to find a health care provider that works for them. It’s just not fair.
Ugh blisters are gross and weird
Gross rant about feet under the cut, which turns into vents about family, and my own personal insecurities about where I’m at in life. There’s a stupid long dumb summary about what happened during my battle with mental illness that most people have heard before.
Things my parents tell me vs who I actually am
Lots of negativity and introspective rants under the cut.
If any of you have/had depression would you mind telling me how you knew for sure and what you did about it?
I always knew something was off about me, but it wasn’t until I was unable to get out of bed, leave my dorm room, shower, eat, or even get dressed that I knew something had to be fixed. I was failing all of my classes due to lack of attendance and had no motivation to do anything. When it started impacting my life in a huge way I emailed my foster aunt and told her how I felt.
I ended up getting hospitalized in the psych ward down the street from my school and got regular visits from therapists as well as having doctors experiment with what medication options worked for me.
I don’t mean to scare you. You won’t get whisked away to a hospital without realizing it unless doctors believe you are at risk of commiting suicide right then and there. I had my entire suicide planned out in great detail and since it was pre mediated they thought hospitlization was the best for me.
I will say this, it’s very difficult to find a psychiatrist and a therapist that works well for you, and it’s very easy to get jaded and think that therapy is pointless. I URGE YOU TO KEEP GOING. Finding a therapist that works well for you is A HUGE BOON.
Do not be afraid to try out therapists and say no if they don’t work out for you. Tell someone you trust about your condition that is willing to listen and fully grasp the situation.
If you are scared of therapy or skeptical about it, think about it this way, having a completely unbiased party critically look at what’s going on and be helpful. Friends can only do so much, but since they are your friends they have their own motivations that they are subconsciously trying to address.
You are literally PAYING for a therapist to figure out what the hell is going on, so it is in their best interest to do that!
If you are worried about your parents finding out you can sign a confidential notice that prevents your parents from seeing your medical records without their consent. (I was forced to do this since my parents were abusive)
I’m not sure what the exact laws are for that situation but I’ll keep an eye out for you. Best of luck!
To be fair
There’s a ton of paperwork I should have done months ago. Getting my course credit transferred from the classes I took in my hometown, so it actually shows up on my transcript, touching base with my adviser and the dean, and just starting the whole process of re-enrolling.
I’ve just…I’m just done with it all. The whole bureaucracy and getting ignored and the stress of playing phone tag and getting condescending comments form administrators that don’t really care, while I’m getting myself more and more in debt just makes me angry. The process seems so pointless to me, despite knowing how important a degree is, it seems useless when my friends who HAVE graduated are in the same financial boat as me, including friends who’ve majored in the math and sciences.
My parents are convinced that once I graduate I can get this magical high paying job and buy a mansion and support them in their old age and pop a million grandchildren for them, while looking super glamorous and it’s just rubbish. I don’t want any of that.
I used to push myself to finish since I thought once I graduated I would be free. Once I graduated I could do whatever I wanted with my life since I would fulfill my promise to my parents, but the further and further I got into school, the more I realized that I would never be free. My parents would always want more and more and more and more of me, and the more I worked the less of the real me would exist.
And when I START to get better my parents reject me completely and think I’ve gone off the deep end and have become lazy, ungrateful, and that I’m stupid, naive, and delusional. The think of me as a trouble maker when I try to get them all in to therapy, or make sure they are taking care of their physical health, yet they whine and say I’m a terrible daughter when I DON’T take care of them constantly.
All I want to do is find out who I am. That’s all I want. I just want a life where I can just be me and do what I want, For ONCE in my life. And I still have a long way to go! Hell I work every day trying to NOT accommodate my entire personality to my boyfriend’s needs or lifestyle, so there’s no telling what will happen when I go back to the intense work load I’ll get in school!
I’m just so angry and frustrated that my parents refuse to see me for who I am. They don’t even know me. I can explain everything perfectly point blank, and they will ACTIVELY deny and ignore everything that comes out of my mouth and it just makes me so upset.
Thoughts on where I’m at in life
The one thing that makes me uncomfortable during small talk is when people ask me what do I do. I’m in this weird transitional period in my life and it’s not always appropriate to bare your heart and soul to someone you have just met.
So explanations on work or school make me really uncomfortable since I’m in the process of picking the pieces back together. I’ve spent my entire life doing what other people want me to do, so I never really got to be a kid, or live for myself. By leaving an abusive home, and taking a break from school to get my priorities straight, I finally have the change to figure out what I really want in life, and honestly, for once in my life I want to enjoy myself and have fun while I’m still young.
My therapist says I have the mentality of a 40 year old woman, and that I should cut myself some slack, so I can get used to treating myself well without getting plagued by horrific guilt. I am slowly trying to enjoy myself without indugling completely. Every time I do something nice for myself, (like taking a hot bath, or eating) I feel like I have done this horribly selfish thing, even though I’m doing basic things to keep my body functioning.
Adults push me into finishing school but I can’t even walk in the same neighborhood of my school without hyper ventilating. I guess because getting a degree represents the old me. The old me that nearly killed herself over being perfect, and I fear falling back on unhealthy habits.
Once I figure out how to learn for me, I will go back. Otherwise, I will keep my mind and body active and healthy, through exercise, eating healthy, re kindling my creative abilities, and more therapy. I am learning how to listen to my body and it’s needs. Everyone has their own path to follow, and I need to learn how to trust mine.
I’m not sure people realize this
But discovering who you are before mental illness can be a long an arduous process, and it takes a lot longer then you think. I guess what compelled me to write this post is the fact that I met up with my foster aunt and little sister two days ago, and my boyfriend’s family yesterday.
Of course they all asked how I was doing, and how my college readmission process was going, since that’s what you talk about in normal conversation, but I couldn’t help but feel a small pang of shame, despite knowing that going back wouldn’t be the right choice for me.
I do want to go back. I’m the kind of person who does their best to fulfill my promises and I’ve promised my parents I’d get a degree for them. The thing is, when your entire life is spent nearly killing yourself over getting said degree, you lose sight of who you really are, and what you truly want out of life.
It wasn’t until I got hospitalized, dropped out and started to slowly get better via therapy and working a simple mindless minimum wage job that I began to remember the kind of person I was, before the illness.
I’m a hard worker, I’m intelligent, resourceful, pragmatic, and competitive. I love to make people happy, and help others. I just took it too far when I was sick.
I remembered my dreams of wanting to be a renaissance woman. A person who could be a jack of all trades, and took joy and pride with learning new things. I haven’t had FUN learning in a long time.
But learning how to use hand tools at my IT job, and being able to have playful banter with my co workers, and exercising my body as well as my mind, made me feel alive again, and my desire to learn more and try new things blossomed back again.
I thought, maybe someday I can save up enough money for voice lessons, or maybe I can muster up the courage to take a dance class. Maybe, I’m not such a worthless person after all, and maybe I can fulfill my childhood dream of making beautiful things and sharing them with people.
When I was working and taking one class at a time, I felt content. I felt fulfilled, I had a great boyfriend and was living with his supportive family, there were three adorable cats, and I could walk and take the bus everywhere, and make art to my hearts content.
Is it selfish of me to want to do more of that?
I haven’t had a happy life in so long, so when I finally get a taste of sweet escape I want to relish and enjoy it. Of course I want to be responsible. I am not afraid of hard work, I just can’t walk anywhere near my college campus without hyperventilating, and it takes me half an hour to muster up the courage to make a phone call.
I do want to do the right thing. I do want to graduate, but I don’t want my entire life to be defined by that moment anymore. I don’t want to be the family crusader anymore. I don’t want my parents to live vicariously through me anymore.
And now that I got them off my back and cut contact, I’ve felt at peace. I don’t want to lose the joy of learning again. I want to take pride my work and not constantly feel like I’m inadequate because I can’t live for the generations of loved ones that passed. I don’t want to be compared to a woman that got shot, gutted, and raped in front of her children because she had the audacity to sneak out of a concentration camp to collect fruit from the orchard of her old home so her children wouldn’t starve. I don’t want to feel like I have to suffer as much as her to be deemed worthy, to feel like I deserve to live, with her namesake.
I am me. And I just want to be me. I guess I fear going back, because I fear falling back into old habits. I fear going back because I fear that I will only be defined by my academic achievements again, and not the many things I have already overcome in my life.
I want to learn for my sake, not as a form of redemption or punishment. I’m just as afraid of success as I am of failure, since once I succeed I have to constantly out do myself, I have to constantly live up to the loved ones that have become legendary heroes in my eyes, and I don’t want to be legendary. I just want to be me.
Asked my parents for money
I don’t even feel about about it anymore. Maybe it’s just me being jaded and bitter but the selfish part of my brain says “After all the abuse asking for a couple hundred dollars is a small price to pay”
But the other side of me is like “They are your parents, and you love them, and they want you to be happy and successfull, the least you can do is reassure them that you are still on the right path. So I called my mom. She’s still really lonely and depressed and basically vented to me like she normally does.
However, I didn’t find it as taxing. I reassured her that dad still loved her but is still an asshole. That all the kids were developing just fine, they just had normal teenage problems, and basically talked about my plans about trying to get into school, and gently warning her that I may not make it in by the fall semester because of paperwork. (when in reality it’s just me preserving my mental health, whatever white lies)
I was in control of the conversation, and that felt really good. No longer was I that scared little girl that was anticipating getting hit. I was an authority figure and she was talking to me like a peer instead of naive child. So although my life situation is less then ideal, I’m slowly mending ties with my family.
They are far from healthy and stable, but I can at least talk to my mom without having to cry for five hours afterwards. And hell, knowing she feels guilty about not raising me well (and trying to change her ways for the other kids) feels a little good.